


The Heart of the Matter

by maderr



Category: Green Hornet (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-05
Updated: 2011-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:45:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maderr/pseuds/maderr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenore is the mastermind, Kato is the badass, but what is Britt? Kato has thoughts on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart of the Matter

"What in the hell were you thinking!" Lenore bellowed, smacking him in his good arm, then shoving her hair out of her face and sitting down next to him on the couch. She opened the box of medical supplies and began yanking things out, still swearing at him with all the fluidity and anger of a recently dumped frat boy gone on seven shots of Jagermeister and at least as many beers.

And much like that very same frat boy, she'd soon fall over exhausted and he could finally get some peace. "You do not deviate from the plan, you stick with the plan, I don't care why you changed your mind you almost got yourself and Kato killed! Why can't you think for once. If you can't think, then at least obey and leave the thinking to me and Kato because you are seriously reinforcing that you are not the brains of the operation! If you weren't half dead I would kill you myself!" She fell silent as she carefully stitched his arm up, cleaned it all up, then bandaged it.

Then she hit him again. "You fucking idiot! I still might finish the job! Stop being stupid!"

He knew she was just mad, and worried, but the words still stung. He didn't mind most people thinking he was stupid and useless, that worked to their favor—but coming from Lenore it stung. "Yeah, yeah," he said, trying for some sort of sarcastic cheer but only sounding downcast. "Never the brains. Just the money and the guy most likely to get shot because I am the Green Hornet even if no one likes it." He stood up, clutching his bloodied shirt in one hand, and stomped off for a shower and clean clothes.

So what if he wasn't a super mad scientist genius badass like Kato, or a super cool reporter turned evil mastermind chick like Lenore. He wasn't a brilliant editor in chief or anything like his father—but he was the Green Hornet, and none of them had come up with that fucking awesome, brilliant, super cool idea. And the bullet that grazed him had been worth it, because that kid might have been a drug dealing punk but he was still a kid and if Britt could start over at his age, some sixteen year old (at best) should have a chance too.

Anyway, he wasn't dead, so what the hell was she all het up about? He'd gotten worse, this was like the fourth time this year some part of him had needed stitches. She should be pleased she was getting so good at being a secret nurse. But no, it was just bitch bitch bitch, shout shout shout.

Britt sighed as he reached his bedroom, and threw his shirt at the hamper—then recalled himself and snatched it out, tossing it in the trash instead. He started to head toward his bathroom, but Kato's muffled voice, raised in anger, stopped him short.

"He's the heart!"

"What?" Lenore snapped.

Yeah, what? Britt wondered. He crept back to the door, down the hall, and hung back where he could watch them without being seen. Possibly he should feel guilty about eavesdropping, but well, he didn't, so there.

Kato glared at Lenore. "I am genius. I made the car, the gun—I make everything. I made lots of things, working for his father. Did nothing. Then Britt said, my things are cool, let's do this. No Britt, I would be fixing cars and making coffee—"

"You do still fix cars and make coffee!"

"Not the same!" Kato replied, voice rising in irritation and reprimand. "Black Beauty! Our coffee! What would you be doing without Britt? Still a temp. No reporter, no mastermind."

Lenore opened her mouth, then closed it again. "You're right," she said finally. "I just really hate seeing you guys come back covered in blood—but I was out of line." She turned away, and began to pack up all the supplies, setting the box down on the table. "I'm going," she announced. "Talk to him."

"About what?" Kato asked.

Lenore picked up her massive purse, managing to smack Kato with it as she swung around. "Don't go all 'I don't understand your English' on me, Kato. I don't need your smartass right now. Talk. To. Him. Maybe he'll stop mistakenly thinking he's Superman. All that armor on the car and you idiots can't make body armor some weekend when your bored? Never mind. Talk to him. Goodnight"

"No talking," Kato muttered as she departed, the words so low that Britt only barely heard them.

Britt swallowed, because he really really like right now or he might die wanted to know what Kato didn't want to talk about. And if it had anything to do with what he really wanted to talk about but didn't because it would be awkward and Kato might say no and Britt rarely was a fan of no—

And Kato was always very adamant about the whole no touching thing, and well, Britt could take a hint when he felt like he probably should. Turning away, he strode back down the hall to his room, into his bathroom where he took a long, hot shower. Back in his room, he started to pull on his pajamas, then thought better of it because who knew what work they still had to do to wrap up for the night. Lenore hadn't exactly given them a chance for a proper post-op rundown and all. Instead, he pulled on jeans and a dark green sweater.

Dressed, ready for whatever the hell was going to go down because damn it something would go down, he finally returned to the main room. He winced as his stitches pulled; the charity breakfast was going to be a nightmare to live through with the stitches sore and itching and people grabbing him. He'd be lucky if the damn thing didn't start bleeding again, which meant he should probably go with a darker suit. Was the charcoal pinstripe back from the dry cleaner's? He'd have to ask the maid in the morning.

Kato was bent over the pool table—nice view—paying a remarkable amount of attention to his game. "Where's Lenore?" Britt asked.

"Gone home," Kato replied, not looking up as he sank a ball.

"She still pissed at me? Am I fired as the Green Hornet again?"

The balls clacked sharply as Kato tried and failed to sink another one—weird, when Kato was good at pool the same way he was good at everything else. "Fuck her," Kato said.

"No thanks," Britt replied, and headed to the bar to pour a whiskey.

Kato looked up, watched him a moment. "No whiskey and meds," he said. "Remember last time."

"Won't forget, trust me," Britt said. "That night was worse than every hangover I've ever had combined. Not taking pain killers, just the whiskey." He hated pain, but he hated being messed up more. What if the Green Hornet had to go unexpectedly? He would be useless drugged up. Better to be in pain and alert. Well, alert minus one whiskey. He poured a double, then took a generous swallow. Turning around, he settled on a bar stool and watched Kato play pool, willing Kato to 'talk to him.'

But Kato was unusually silent, and also avoided looking at him. Quiet had never been one of Britt's qualities, and neither had patience, and really neither did keeping things from his friends. Well, friend. He'd never realized 'til Kato what friend actually meant. "Did you really mean it when you said I'm the heart?"

Kato scratched, and said something in Chinese that Britt nevertheless understood perfectly. "Yes," Kato said. "No Britt, no Green Hornet."

"No Kato, no Green Hornet either," Britt replied. "We're—a team. Partners."

They fell silent again, which as weird, cause Kato might pretend to the dark, strong, badass type but when it was just the two of them he chatted like a pre-teen girl. "Kato, why aren't you talking to me?"

"Why have to talk? Silence is golden, or some shit."

"No way, silence is annoying and awkward and boring. I don't want silence." He drained his whiskey, set the glass down on the bar, then stood and walked over to the pool table. He weighed his options—not his normal thing. He was definitely more an action kind of guy than a thoughtful type. That's why he paid Lenore to do all the complicated, evil master mind stuff.

Anyway.

Kato wasn't giving. Britt sucked at important talking. Action man. Taking action could end one of two ways, and well, Kato's ass-kickings had never killed him before and they'd fought over way worse than this.

If there was anything he'd learned in the past couple of years, it was how to get the drop on Kato when he really needed. He snatched the pool cue from Kato's hand and made to bend over the pool table—then dropped the cue, spun, and grabbed the sides of Kato's head. Kato started to murder him, but went stone-still as Britt's mouth covered his.

Britt might not be good for much, but he was an awesome fake criminal and a damned awesome kisser. He totally had a black belt in tongue, or something. Even Kato wasn't able to mount a defense against it. Instead of murdering or even miming him, Kato began to kiss him back, hands slowly falling away from where they'd wrapped around Britt's to grab fistfuls of his sweater. "My man," Britt muttered.

"Shut up," Kato said.

Britt just laughed and half-pushed, half-dragged Kato to the nearby couch, pushing Kato down onto it and following him down. "Here I thought you would kill me if I actually made a move on you."

Kato didn't say anything but Britt guessed it wasn't exactly necessary. He just kissed Kato again, pushed him deeper into the plush cushions. Habits of self-preservation made him hesitate to do more, but the complete lack of hesitancy in the way Kato was sucking on his tongue finally pushed him to shove a hand up under Kato's shirt just like he'd always wanted. He made soft, muffled noises of approval against Kato's mouth as his fingers moved over smooth, warm skin. "Mmph—Kato—"

In reply, Kato bit his lip, dragged his tongue across them, then finally drew back. "What?" Britt just shook his head and sat up, went to remove his shirt—and grimaced as his stitches pulled.

"Hold still," Kato said, reaching out to grab him. "Should not do—"

"Like hell we shouldn't do this," Britt snapped, and tried to push Kato's hands away while still taking off his sweater, and Kato tried to stop him and grab him—

And they went tumbling off the couch, landing painfully on the floor. "You fucking idiot," Kato said, and finally yanked Britt's sweater off and cast it aside, then stripped off his own shirt and holy hell was it going to be nice to have a kung-fu master badass for a boyfriend. Yes, please, he wanted a long drink of that, and it had better be an endless free refills kind of drink. "Do not tear stitches," Kato added, glaring at him.

"Shut up," Britt said, pouting. "Kiss me."

Kato frowned.

"I swear to god if you stop now after I've waited, like, forever for this, I will murder you six times, Kato. Don't be a fucking cock tease!"

"Not a cock tease," Kato snapped.

"Good," Britt replied, and yanked him down with his good arm, picking up right where they'd left off, getting a nice hold of Kato's ass. He really liked Kato spread across his lap, cocks pressed together—"Are you going to let me fuck you?" he asked.

"If you suck me off," Kato replied, and there was something about his accent that made the request like five million times dirtier than if anyone else had said it. "Since when you do guys?"

"Not every part of my sex life makes the news," Britt muttered against Kato's skin. "And this is LA, dude. Everything goes. Since when do you, Mr. No Touchy or I Get All Pissy?"

Kato just looked at him in that smug, smarmy way of his that Britt loved and hated. "I never make the paper, except as Green Hornet's mysterious assistant."

"Yeah, yeah," Britt complained, then ended the discussion by shoving Kato off him, sending him tumbling onto his back with a very un-Kato yelp. Not giving him a chance to recover, mindful of his arm even though really it was totally okay and he'd dealt with worse even if it hurt like a fucking bitch and a half, he attacked Kato's remaining clothes.

And he really was not surprised in the least that Kato was hellaciously hot, balls to bones. Or maybe that was balls to boners. That was bad even for him. Britt took hold of Kato's cock, stroking, teasing, learning its weight and feel. When Kato started threatening him in Chinese, he finally bent and took him in, sucking for all he was worth—and he was worth a very long string of zeroes—working Kato's cock with tongue and throat, with everything he'd ever learned from prissy frat boys who didn't want anyone to know they liked cock and the odd pretty boy surfer who didn't care about shit.

Kato was totally noisy during sex and Britt wouldn’t have expected it but man he was totally all about it, like for serious. It was fucking hot as hell, all the filthy words raining down on him in English and Chinese, interspersed with pleas and praise and demands for more and Britt wasn't already gone on Kato that would have majorly sealed the deal.

When Kato finally came with a noise that was mostly Britt's name, hot and bitter in Britt's mouth, it was practically the best thing ever and it would have been the best thing ever except he was still waiting for a chance to fuck Kato and that would be the best thing ever.

He pulled off Kato's cock, wiping come and spit from his chin, and grinned. "Yeah, that was the best blowjob ever, don't even front—mmph—" It figured that sex with Kato was small measure of tussling, but Britt had absolutely no complaints, especially as the current tussling resulted in his clothes joining Kato's on the floor.

"Lay still," Kato ordered, and then abruptly stood up and strode off and damn what a view that was.

Britt stared up at the ceiling, idly fisting his cock and stroking it slowly, thoughts bubbling happily in his head that this was going down, that he would soon be buried in Kato's ass and Kato was totally all for it and not bitching about being touched or about anything really except Britt's arm and it would heal so screw that.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention back to Kato, who was as spectacular coming (pun intended) as he was going. His cock was half-hard again already and Britt bet the bastard could go all night like a Chinese porn star or something.

Kato straddled him again, and Britt greedily reached out to touch, caress, feel Kato in a way he'd dreamed about for a long fucking time but never actually thought he'd get to do. Kato batted his hands away, then tore open a condom and rolled it down Britt's cock.

Britt almost lost his fucking mind when Kato then opened the lube and began to prep himself. "Kato, stop trying to kill me dead with hotness. There will be no such death before you come on my cock."

"Shut up," Kato bit out, then swore in Chinese again as Britt pushed a finger in to join his two. He really was the hottest, most edible awesome wicked fucking perfect thing Britt had ever seen and if he could still think at all he would so make a joke about Chinese food.

Instead all he could do was moan Kato's name as Kato finished preparing himself, grabbed Britt's cock and lined up, then slowly sank down. They paused a moment, sounds of their breathing filling the room, and just looked at each other. To hell with brothers, man, they ran far deeper than that. He was glad Kato had finally realized it. Took him long enough.

Finally Kato began to move, and matching his rhythm was the easiest thing Britt had ever done, thrusting up as Kato bore down, moving faster and faster until it was impossible to think of anything but the way Kato felt on his cock, they it felt when Kato came on his cock, and the only thing louder than Kato's shout was Britt's.

They lay on the floor in a sweaty pile for what seemed like a second and forever, until Britt finally got too uncomfortable to keep laying there. He stood and began to clean them up, throwing the condom away and deciding the clothes could stay where they were. "So want to come to bed with me, or do you need to slink off to do some emo thinking shit or whatever? Cause I'm thinking sleep, then sex, then brunch, then more sex, and then we get Black Beauty ready for our meeting with the Koreans tomorrow night."

"No emo shit," Kato said. "Bed is good."

"My man," Britt agreed cheerfully. "So why didn't you talk to me sooner?"

Kato shrugged. "I help carry out ideas. I execute them."

"You don't make the move," Britt finished. He beamed. "That's my department. Cause I'm the heart."

"You are also the ass," Kato said, punching him as Britt pinched his ass.

Britt yelped, and gave him a wounded puppy look. Kato ignored him, long inured to most of Britt's wounded looks. In Britt's bedroom, he paused in the doorway, looking suddenly uncertain.

"Oh, no," Britt said. "You don't get to flake out now, Kato."

"Not flaking out," Kato said defensively.

Britt just rolled his eyes sand gave Kato a hard shove so that he toppled onto the bed. Then he dimmed the lights and followed him, dragging Kato up and giving him the left side cause Britt always slept on the right. "Next time, tell me to execute this idea sooner."

"I have others," Kato said in the dark.

"Pervert," Britt said cheerfully, dragging Kato close.


End file.
